


Eternal Winter

by conanchristopher



Category: Late Night Host RPF, Late Night with Conan O'Brien (TV)
Genre: 00s Conan, F/M, First Time, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 16:28:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17604866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conanchristopher/pseuds/conanchristopher
Summary: Conan is more than what people see on TV.





	Eternal Winter

Conan O’Brien has been known as a successful talk show host, the Simpsons writer who made it big. He’s the funny, witty guy who’s great at improvising and cracking his guests up. Some think he’s a comedic genius, and some think he’s an idiot. He’s been loved by college students, and hated by baby boomers. He was one of the most recognizable names in the United States.

And he was the one she called “my love”.

She was asked many times about how she met Conan, what was the exact situation that led them to be together for so long. She always smiled tenderly and her eyes wandered to that cold night in New York City, many years prior. It had just started to snow. She was desperately trying to go home before it got too cold. She rushed to the subway, the sidewalk was a bit slippery, and she was passing a busy coffee shop when a distracted man bumped into her.

He was holding a cup of hot cocoa and the content went all over his coat. He looked down at the mess, and her hand went to her mouth. She managed to mutter “I’m so sorry” before meeting his eyes. He looked up again to complain to whoever it was. They both stared at each other. He has such beautiful deep blue eyes, and she noticed that a second before recognizing his face. Conan smiled, and said “it’s okay”. His expression softened as he contemplated her slightly surprised face.

She ended up smiling at him, and shaking her head and apologizing to him again. What a mess she had made. He assured her that it wasn’t her fault, and if someone was to blame, that would be both of them. He took off his coat and mentioned that it was ugly anyway. She giggled at his silliness. He was wearing a very thick gray sweater, jeans and boots. His hair, blowing with the cold wind, looked exactly the same as it did on television. But not really.

He actually looked better than he did on television. He looked taller, his smile, prettier. She shook her head again, saying that she needed to go home and he said he could take her home, since it was getting too cold and the subway is nasty on winter. He was a stranger, she could’ve said no. But there was sweetness in his tone of voice. He was so gentle to her when it clearly was her fault for not looking up while walking…

Bumping into Conan and taking that ride was the best decision of her life. Looking back at that snowy day, she thanked heaven because everything she did, led her to him. He asked if he could see her again after the ride was over. And she said yes. Many times, in many situations. She wanted him more and more every time they met. She wanted his jokes, and his laughter and his smell.

And she wanted his body.

Of all the sexual partners she had, Conan was by far the best of them. He made every time seem like the first time. But she would never forget the first time his mouth and fingers gave her the best orgasm she had had in years. They had just arrived from a date, he took her home and he was about to leave when his car gave up on him. He thought about getting a cab. She convinced him to stay with her. It was Saturday. It was snowing.

He wasn’t pushy, he didn’t rush. He took his time. He explored every inch of her skin, his tongue tasting her sweetness. Her body quivered at the softness of his touch. Her hands held him close, as if losing him at that moment was no option. His blue eyes darkened, full of hunger, and he studied her, and he teased her. And she couldn’t hold herself together. She would melt all over him; she would lose her mind with his face between her legs, his big hands on her thighs. And she would be loud, and she would cry his name repeatedly, begging him to be inside her. Conan, Conan. Please.

He didn’t leave the next morning. It was still snowing. He simply stayed underneath the sheets with her, their naked bodies warming each other. His hair was a mess, they were both exhausted. But they were both so happy. It was so cold outside. He didn’t have to leave. It would be better if he stayed forever.

He did. They would sleep in each other’s apartments more and more often. Sometimes he would leave for work after sleeping at her place for several days. He had piles of his clothes in her apartment, and she suspected his whole wardrobe was already there. They were suddenly living together. And none of them really cared about it.

He would take her to historical places around the US, and talk about his love for rock music and tell her a thousand times how it felt meeting Paul McCartney while he was a writer for Saturday Night Live. And she would listen like it was the first time he was talking about it. He would wear leather jackets with ties, and yes, his hair was that silly most of the time.

She remembers the first time Conan said he loved her. It was simple, yet so pure. She was talking about how she got into painting and that unfortunately, it couldn’t be a source of income. Her hair was in a ponytail and she had paint stains all over her shirt, and she waved a brush in his direction, so outraged by this situation. He had just showered, his hair was wet and he was wearing a t-shirt with sweatpants. He listened patiently until she finished. “I love you so much”, he said, appearing to be in deep contemplation of the feeling he had just expressed.

She stopped, and looked at him, extremely surprised. He apologized. She shook her head and hugged him tightly, dropping the brush and burying her face against his neck. He smelled of aftershave. She kissed him repeatedly, his lips so soft feeling warm against hers. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry for being a dick”, she said to him, running her fingers down his wet hair. His body felt tense against hers. “Oh my God, I love you too” she said, holding him against her, and she felt him relax a bit, as he sighed. Tears ran down her face, and they wet his t-shirt. She held him as tight as humanly possible, praying for him not to leave.

She had to learn that as different as they were, their love would always survive. She saw what his fans didn’t see. She saw every moment of weakness, and insecurity he had. She saw his losses and his victories, personal and professional. She saw the sides of Conan many weren’t used to, and maybe some wouldn’t stand. But he was her man, and she swore she would be there. And sometimes she smiles while it’s snowing, thinking about that.

He continues to love her, to this day, after a long marriage, and after one kid; and every time he says so, it sounds completely genuine. She doesn’t know life without him anymore. It’s like she had a life before Conan and a life after Conan, and she wants Conan to last until the end of time. Of course, she knows it’s impossible. But she will continue to love him through eternity, even when he leaves this universe. He’s in her heart.

And he won’t be leaving soon.


End file.
